


Drakil'jin

by joyeusenoelle



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 00:09:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyeusenoelle/pseuds/joyeusenoelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew that voice. Jones. /Damn it/.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drakil'jin

There had never seemed to be any twilight between unconsciousness and wakefulness for Adarrah; whenever she woke, it was sudden and thorough, even when she'd been drugged or knocked senseless. Judging by the crosswork wooden bars she saw when she opened her eyes, it had been "drugged" this time; if she'd been knocked unconscious they wouldn't have had time to move her this thoroughly. She flexed her fingers and tested her arms and legs. "Didn't even bother to tie me up," she said, and discovered that her throat was raw and her tongue was dry. Definitely drugged. 

The cage was distinctive. She'd seen dozens as she'd worked her way through Northrend, and couldn't help but recognize it now. Drakkari trolls, or someone using their belongings -- and she guessed the former, since, in fairness, she'd been raiding one of their tombs when they'd caught her. She didn't remember being caught, just examining some stelic carving above one of the graves; she'd been fascinated by how the trolls' written language had diverged between Northrend, Kalimdor, and the Eastern Kingdoms, even as much of the spoken language had stayed the same. 

Bruni, Adarrah remembered, had been watching her back as she studied. She glanced around the room. A pyre burned high in the center of the room, and a gong stood on what Adarrah guessed was the south wall, given the trolls' architectural proclivities. There were three other cages, but they looked empty. At least Bruni would have given the trolls a black eye before going down -- more than Adarrah could say for herself. 

She shook the cage, but it was sturdy. They'd used stout oak bars, and tough sinews to tie the structure together; it wasn't going anywhere, not when she could still feel the last of the drug still making her muscles sluggish. The door was standard, too: a single panel, hinged with sinew, and an iron lock on one side. The locks were usually constructed in a way that made her think of the dwarves, and she'd always wondered if the trolls had traded for them or simply stolen the technology. Getting the locks honestly would have been the only example of trade between the Northrend trolls and the iron dwarves that she knew of, but the trolls had too many locks to have simply stolen them all, and it was the only real hard metalworking they'd shown.

Adarrah stuck her fingers through the door and ran them over the lock. Typical construction, which meant a simple two-pin tumbler. She reached back and pulled the pins from her hair; there was a reason she kept it up while she was exploring. Not being able to see the face of the lock made the job harder, but she didn't actually hear any trolls wandering nearby. Then again, the fire was plenty loud, and the trolls had managed to sneak up on her in the first place.

She'd just pressed the second tumbler pin into place when she heard footsteps. She quickly stowed the pins in her sleeve and hunched down in the cage; she debated looking like she was still asleep, but decided that the trolls were going to do whatever they wanted regardless, so she might as well be able to see what was going on.

She heard a voice before she saw anyone. "...chamber, where I was to be sacrificed."

She knew that voice. Jones. _Damn it._

He stepped into view, dressed as he always was in a white shirt, brown pants, and boots, with his "rugged" leather vest and that stupid hat. "Time to put an end to all this," he said, and Adarrah noticed that he had someone else with him, someone she didn't recognize. A student, maybe? Or some hapless adventurer he'd managed to con into working with him?

Jones came over and crouched down, peered at the lock intently; he didn't even seem to have noticed Adarrah. With a shout, he whacked the lock with his fist. The pins Adarrah had set into place clicked, and the lock opened smoothly. "You're free to go, miss," he said, in his "heroic voice" -- putting on a show for his follower and the "poor innocent victim" he thought he'd just saved, no doubt. 

Adarrah groaned. "Yeah, _thank you_ ," she muttered, and stood, pushing the cage door open. Jones, thank the Light, was already moving on to examining the rest of the room, so she snuck out of the chamber. There didn't seem to be any trolls in the halls, so she made her way cautiously through the halls until she found the burial chamber where she'd been working. There, by the tomb she'd been investigating, lay her bag, her torch -- and Bruni, clearly too injured to still be breathing. Adarrah crept to her side and closed the dwarf's eyes. "Thank you, old friend," she said, and pulled the pendant from around Bruni's neck; her brother would want the heirloom, and to know that Bruni had gone down fighting.

Suddenly, the gong from the ceremonial chamber sounded, a tone that Adarrah felt through the stone as much as heard. " _Damn_ it, Jones," she said, and snatched her bag up. If she'd heard the gong, so had the rest of the trolls patrolling the ruins above, and she didn't want to be here when they showed up. A second peal rang through the air, and she stood and sprinted for the entrance. She saw daylight and smelled fresh air, and nobody had started down into the tomb yet -- excellent -- but she heard the trolls' broad feet slapping against the paving stones, and leapt desperately for the side wall, clawing her way to the top and over just as the first tusks appeared over the top of the ramp.

It was just a pair of trolls, though; they patrolled down to the entrance and listened, then headed back up to the top. "Tecahuna's been summoned," one shouted in a dialect Adarrah was barely familiar with. "The human's done our sacrificin' for us!" The rest of the trolls erupted in a cheer, and one of the trolls gave the lightning serpents at the top of the ramp a friendly pat. "Your big brother, he'll do you proud," the troll said.

Adarrah slipped down off the wall and started making her way out of the ruins. If she knew Jones, he'd have his crew in Northrend with him -- and even though she had no love lost for the man, they'd want to know what he'd gotten up to in Drakil'jin.


End file.
